milliways_bar | (no subject)

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demeter

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One of the greatest pains (in a 'well, that's a relief' sort of way) for any patron with a tendency towards falling long distances is suddenly falling through the door. Which is what happens to this particular new person.

He goes tumbling through the door, grabbing onto the floor and then backflipping off it and swinging from rafter to rafter, before gravity rather harshly reasserts itself and he realises that the direction he was moving in has changed.

He hangs there for a moment, looking a bit foolish, and then drops to the ground, looking very confused. Not just because of the strange disorientating trick that the door played on him, but also because he came from a tomb, and bars in tombs are ... not unheard of, but still strange.

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Oh, that's a pity. The patron he passed in the rafters was about to say hello.

Well, fortunately that's not ruled out yet. The creature picks up its latest project, cradling the works in three of its four major tentacles, and quietly descends from above to get a better look at who's just arrived. Our newest patron may well hear "Prrrt?" from behind him as the creature cocks its head this way and that.

Freeze.

Slow, suspicious turn.

"Gah!" He jumps back, almost losing his footing but just about keeping it. He reaches back, checking his head for any injuries - because really, that would explain a great deal.

That gets a whistle of alarm in reply, and the creature pulling its head back a bit. It reflexively raises one glowing bluish tentacle to gesture Sorry! No harm meant! as best it can without dropping its latest toy.

The Prince squints at it. To be honest, this isn't helping his 'going crazy' theory.

Oh, well. Run with it for the moment.

"Sorry. You just ..." vague gesture, "surprised me."

That, alas, seems to happen. With a rueful trill it ducks its head; then it brightens. The device it's been working with has the sound circuits it took from that one human timepiece a while back, and an interface that doesn't require it to force syllables to form from individual phonemes...

Long story short it's connected a small keyboard to the guts of a Stephen Fry alarm clock. Thus a few moments later, a very very civilised man's voice replies, "My utmost apologies, sir. One does seem to have that effect upon people."

The Prince just stares for several moments.

Several moments more.

Eventually: "Well, that's not your fault, I'm sure."

"Indeed, sir. One cannot help the image which one's creator chose, or that others find it peculiar," the creature answers. "However, one can help one's manners. And so: welcome to Milliways, sir."

"Of course," the Prince says faintly. "Thanks for the welcome. Milliways is a bar?"

Beat.

"In a tomb?"

"Or on a ship," says the creature, "or any one of a number of other places. The door does have a bad habit of appearing at different times and locales depending on who's to be the next visitor, I'm afraid."

Blink.

"Sorry, you're going to have to run that one by me again."

"The door," the creature patiently says, "isn't always in the same place. It appears or disappears more or less at random, and can admit almost anyone or anything. When you found the door, it was clearly in a tomb. When I found it, it was aboard a ship."

"Oh, okay," quick feel around the back of his head again, "a ship on the sea?"

It seems like a good question to ask.

"Alas, no," says the creature. "One that travels between worlds. The trips are a bit longer."

"I might note, by the way, that the first drink one orders here is free as a matter of course."

Demeter watches him enter and isn't sure whether to applaud or help him so for now she just grins in his general direction.

He doesn't seem too fazed by the whole experience, so after he brushes himself down he waves in her direction.

For some reason, an elderly woman in a bar strikes him as stranger than a tentacle creature. Which surely isn't right - he's seen old women in drinking establishments of all sorts before.

"Hello, young man. Would you join me for a drink?"

She has a bottle of wine on her table and is now openly grinning at him, he's quite handsome.

Well, he's already established that he must have gone quite mad, so one more drink won't harm him.

"Sure, why not?"

"Good. I don't think I've ever seen quite such an impressive entrance before."

Grin.

"Stop, you'll make me blush."

"Nothing wrong with that."

She pours him a glass of wine and pushes a chair towards him.

"I'll end up clashing with my scarf," he points out.

"You could always just take it off."

The Prince gives this a moment's consideration, before unwinding the scarf from around his head, letting his not inconsiderable amount of shaggy hair fall around his face.